Mark my words!' said the robber, poising a crowbar, which he had drawn from under the bedstead.
'I've thought of it all,' said the Jew with energy.

'I've--I've had my eye upon him, my dears, close--close.

Once let him feel that he is one of us; once fill his mind with the idea that he has been a thief; and he's ours! Ours for his life.

Oho! It couldn't have come about better! The old man crossed his arms upon his breast; and, drawing his head and shoulders into a heap, literally hugged himself for joy.
'Ours!' said Sikes.

'Yours, you mean.' 'Perhaps I do, my dear,' said the Jew, with a shrill chuckle.